


Storm Over Markarth

by phoenixquest



Series: Ryndoril and Ondolemar [12]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Cute, Fluff, M/M, Thunderstorms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-26
Updated: 2014-08-26
Packaged: 2018-02-14 21:20:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2203458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixquest/pseuds/phoenixquest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A thunderstorm rolls through while the city sleeps, and a certain Bosmer finds himself awake and a little afraid. Lucky for him, his favorite Altmer is there to comfort him. Very fluffy and sweet, a nice moment between my two favorite lovers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Storm Over Markarth

Lightning forked across the sky over the city of Markarth, painting the inky-blackness with streaks of white for the briefest moment before disappearing altogether. Barely a breath later, a crack of thunder shook the city, loud enough to rattle the very stone. The dogs in the Keep whimpered and cowered at the noise while outside, rain poured endlessly from the heavy cloud cover.

Near the city’s entrance, high enough up the mountainside to be closer to the lightning than most of Markarth, sat a Dwemer house. In the wee hours of the morning, all was quiet inside. A Nord housecarl slept in small bed, arms curled around his Nord lover. The storm wasn’t enough to wake the two, leaving them in a peaceful slumber.

Across the hall from the small room, a larger bed lay occupied. The Thalmor Commander slept deeply, wrapped contentedly in the luxurious blankets his Bosmer lover had provided for their bed. His bed companion, however, was not as lucky; the rumble of thunder had awoken him, leaving him gasping in surprise and trying to calm his racing heart.

Ryndoril was not a cowardly Bosmer – far from it. He’d endured far worse things than thunderstorms, to be sure, and it was _awfully_ silly of him to let a bit of bad weather bother him so. Nevertheless, he couldn’t keep himself from trembling slightly as he realized the storm outside was raging, seeming to pound on the very walls as though asking to come inside.

The next deafening crack of thunder actually made the poor elf jump, and before he knew it a small whimper escaped his throat. He wanted to hit himself for such a stupid reaction; he knew the weather wasn’t going to _do_ anything to him, Divine’s sake!

“Ryn?” Ondolemar mumbled sleepily, sensing the Bosmer’s distress with the jerk of the bed. He reached out for his lover, placing a hand on the wood elf’s arm, and felt him trembling. “Are you alright?” he asked, quickly becoming more alert to the possibility of danger.

“Yes,” Ryndoril whispered, and even his voice shook. He cursed himself inside his head. “Go back to sleep. Everything’s fine.” Ondolemar frowned in the darkness.

“What’s the matter?” Ondolemar pressed, rubbing his fingers gently over the elf’s arm. He’d noticed Ryndoril was rolled on his side, facing away from him. “Ryndoril, tell me,” he pleaded when the mer didn’t reply.

“It’s…it’s nothing,” Ryndoril insisted, trying to steady his voice. He was annoyed at himself for overreacting, and further annoyed that he’d woken Ondolemar up. He wasn’t going to look like a weakened, pathetic child in front of the Altmer!

Just then, however, the loudest boom of thunder yet came from the sky, and Ryndoril instinctively curled in on himself, clasping his hands over his ears and whimpering again. Gods, but he _hated_ thunderstorms. They seemed so rare in the Reach, he hadn’t thought he’d have to deal with one in Ondolemar’s presence.

“Ryn?” Ondolemar questioned, immediately moving closer to the Bosmer and wrapping his arms around the smaller, trembling elf. “Are you afraid of…storms?”

“N-no,” Ryndoril protested, flushing all over. He didn’t have words for how much the Altmer’s embrace helped, though he still didn’t want Ondolemar to know. It was so stupid, so childish…

“It’s alright,” Ondolemar said, his voice soothing as he pressed a gentle kiss to the back of Ryndoril’s head, pulling him tighter into his grasp. “It’s not going to hurt you, you know.”

“I know that,” Ryndoril snapped, his anger at himself making his tone far harsher than it ever normally was. This alone made Ondolemar pause – he didn’t think he’d ever heard Ryndoril speak to him like that.

“What happened?” Ondolemar asked after a moment, thinking this would be the best question. He didn’t want to press the elf for a confession, since the problem was so obvious and it was even more obvious that Ryndoril did not want to confirm it. “Why does it bother you?”

Ryndoril was silent; he didn’t want to tell the Altmer how ridiculous he was, he hadn’t ever wanted him to find out to begin with! Now, though, he’d made himself so damned obvious that of course Ondolemar knew. The elf wasn’t a fool. When another rumble of thunder shook the house, Ryndoril gasped and automatically rolled over, snuggling in closer to the Altmer’s embrace.

Well, it didn’t seem to matter anymore, he thought bitterly. If he was going to have to put up with the stupid storm and the Altmer knowing his stupid weakness, he might as well have the comfort of Ondolemar’s arms. At least until the elf decided he’d rather leave, laughing at Ryndoril’s immaturity.

“You’re okay,” Ondolemar said instead, kissing the Bosmer’s forehead now and holding him close to his bare chest. “Just relax, Ryn, I’m here.” Despite his fears, despite his past, despite the storm, Ryndoril couldn’t help feeling a little relieved at the words; Ondolemar’s presence could calm him in any situation.

Ryndoril tried to pull himself together, more grateful than he could say for the Altmer’s kindness and acceptance of Ryndoril’s pathetic fear. Being in Ondolemar’s warm embrace, the familiar, comforting scent of the Altmer soothed him.

Ondolemar felt for the Bosmer; gods knew he didn’t like anyone seeing _him_ weak. Especially over something so seemingly silly. It was most odd that the Bosmer would be afraid of storms; Ryndoril was so brave in every other aspect of his life, not even afraid to face down a fort full of mages, for Auri-El’s sake! It was obvious something had happened to cause this; the Bosmer wouldn’t just be afraid of a bit of bad weather out of nowhere, not with the way he dealt with everyday life. Ondolemar hoped Ryndoril would tell him about it when he was ready, but in the meantime, he simply tried to comfort the Bosmer. He stroked Ryndoril’s hair soothingly, keeping him held close.

“When I was young,” Ryndoril began haltingly, murmuring the words against Ondolemar’s bare shoulder, “around seven or eight years…” he trailed off.

“Go on,” Ondolemar encouraged after a pause. “Tell me, Ryn.” Ryndoril cleared his throat, trying to gather his nerve. It sounded so stupid, even in his head, and he wasn’t keen on saying it aloud. The Altmer was being so _kind_ , though – he ought to tell him.

“There was a terrible storm in the forest,” Ryndoril went on, his voice barely a whisper. “I’d seen plenty of storms…though I didn’t like the loud noise, it wasn’t that bad. This one, though…I had been out hunting.”

“So young?” Ondolemar asked in surprise.

“I’m a Bosmer,” Ryndoril said with a small laugh, feeling a bit better about the whole explanation already. “Of course I was out hunting young. Well…the storm blew up out of nowhere, and I was far enough away from my sister that I couldn’t find her in sudden downpour. The lightning came…and then the thunder,” he added, his voice far away now as he remembered the day so vividly, as always. “I tried to find somewhere to wait it out, but there wasn’t anything nearby – nothing but trees. Finally I huddled down under the cover of a large plant, hoping it would go away.”

“Alone,” Ondolemar said, sounding surprised again. Gods, that certainly was not something _he’d_ have enjoyed.

“Yeah,” Ryndoril nodded. “Well…it got worse, more lightning and more thunder, and then lightning struck this tree nearby.” Ryndoril gulped before going on, and was grateful for the gentle squeeze Ondolemar offered. “It fell…it was huge…and it pinned me. I was stuck on my back with the rain pouring down, this heavy tree over my middle, and I couldn’t get free. I called for help, but it was storming too hard for anyone to hear…so I had to stay there while it stormed, stuck and praying lightning wouldn’t hit me.” He paused, taking a breath. “It was the worst storm I ever remembered, and being outside in it with the thunder cracking…I was…terrified.” The last word was barely audible.

“That’s awful, Ryn,” Ondolemar murmured, pressing his lips softly to Ryndoril’s forehead. “That’s enough to make anyone afraid of thunderstorms.” As if on cue, another crack of thunder came, though this one was at least quieter. Ryndoril jumped at hearing it, but truthfully felt quite safe in the Altmer’s arms.

“It’s stupid,” Ryndoril murmured, closing his eyes in embarrassment though the other elf couldn’t see him anyway. “I know it is.”

“It isn’t,” Ondolemar insisted at once. It didn’t even occur to him to consider the fear a weakness in the Bosmer – how could it, with all of Ryndoril’s other traits? “It isn’t stupid, it’s understandable.”

“It was so long ago,” Ryndoril lamented. “I should’ve…gotten over it, or something.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Ondolemar replied firmly. “That would have scared anyone witless, Ryndoril.”

“I don’t want you to think I’m pathetic,” Ryndoril managed to confess softly. Ondolemar couldn’t help but laugh quietly, rubbing the Bosmer’s bare-skinned back.

“And how could I?” Ondolemar inquired. “You are an exceptional person, Ryn. A little anxiety over a thunderstorm is hardly going to make me think any less of you.” Ryndoril didn’t reply, but only twitched a little at the next boom of thunder. “In any case, I assure you that you are safe,” Ondolemar murmured softly. “You know I will not let anything happen to you.” Ryndoril couldn’t help smiling at that declaration. Ondolemar was typically so reserved, it was all the more special to hear such a thing from him – even if it was likely due to the late hour and sensitive topic.

“Thank you, Ondolemar,” Ryndoril whispered, nuzzling his head against the Altmer’s shoulder. “I…I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”

“Of course,” Ondolemar murmured, warmth blossoming inside him from the sweet touch. He paused, thinking; how could he make the Bosmer feel better? “You know, back in the Isles, I used to love thunderstorms.”

“Really?” Ryndoril asked, and his tone showed a curiosity that told Ondolemar it was a good topic to have chosen.

“Yes,” Ondolemar nodded, his hand still rubbing gently over Ryndoril’s back. “Summerset is beautiful, but when it would storm…the sky clouding over, covered in gray; the streaks of lightning out over the sea; and you could see it for miles,” he added reminiscently. “The wind would shake the brightly-colored leaves on the trees, and the rain made everything smell practically Divine.”

“That sounds nice,” Ryndoril admitted, calming down quite a lot at the Altmer’s soothing voice. “You couldn’t really see any of it for all the trees in Valenwood.”

“Yes, that would make it harder to see the beauty,” Ondolemar nodded, amused. “My mother would walk with me from our home down toward the coast; staying far back enough we were in no danger, of course. It was when we would talk,” he added softly, remembering his mother. It had been so very, _very_ long ago. “We’d have the best conversations. Mundane or insightful, it didn’t matter; just spending time together. Aurelion would get jealous,” he added with a soft chuckle.

“Mmm,” Ryndoril said, clearly amused though sleepy again. A rumble of thunder came again, but Ryndoril didn’t move this time.

“I suspect that was when Father taught him to freeze my bed into ice in the mornings,” Ondolemar mused. “Not that my mother preferred me,” he added quickly. “She was a fine mer, and it was always clear she cared deeply for both of us.” He trailed off, remembering his family. Sometimes it was nice to think about them; it was always a little painful to remember none of them were still around, but it helped immensely to have Ryndoril in his arms.

The Bosmer’s presence reminded him that whatever had happened before, he was no longer alone to deal with the future. He’d had friends before – Ancano being one of them, of course – and he didn’t exactly dislike most of his Justiciars. But being stationed there in Markarth with only his two guards – who had to report to him, no matter their personal feelings – and a country full of Nords who despised him…it was far lonelier than he would have ever admitted.

Ryndoril had changed all that. He still wasn’t quite sure what to think of being in an actual relationship like this – for it was clear that’s what it was, though they’d never spoken of it. All Ondolemar knew was that he cared deeply for the elf, and Ryndoril clearly cared deeply for him as well. He liked and trusted the Bosmer, which was more than he could say for just about anyone else.

“You make it so easy to discuss such things,” Ondolemar murmured to the elf in his arms. Ryndoril’s only response was a very light snore – the Bosmer had fallen asleep. “Well, if I bore you _that_ badly,” Ondolemar snorted, amused. Another rumble of thunder came through, this one softer – but Ryndoril did not stir in Ondolemar’s arms. It was obvious that the elf felt comfortable enough with Ondolemar there to have gone back to sleep instead of being afraid.

An odd feeling spread through Ondolemar at that realization – something like caring, and protectiveness. He wanted very much to make sure the Bosmer always felt safe with him. Squeezing Ryndoril gently, Ondolemar shut his own eyes again, drifting off to sleep.

Outside, the thunder continued, the rain still poured down and the lightning still streaked the sky over the mountain. In the Keep, the dogs still cowered from the fear of the unknown noises, and the waterfalls crashed down loudly as the rain overflowed them.

But inside Vlindrel Hall, high up on the mountain, a Bosmer slept peacefully in his Altmer lover’s arms, neither knowing nor caring about the continued raging of the storm.


End file.
